Missing
by Scared of Pennies
Summary: He tried to sit up but let out a strangled cry as pain lanced through his chest. Each shuddering breath sent agony through him. His head felt foggy, he couldn’t think straight. His mouth tasted like copper. How long had he been lying here?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **This was written for Round Four of the SFTCOLARS Secret Santa Summer Fic Exchange for OubletShadowStalker. Basically this is an AU of Salvation set just after Sam has his vision. I would like to apologise for the extreme lateness of this, I've had the week from hell but it's no excuse. Sorry for it being late and enjoy. This is chapter one so more to come!

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Wet.

He could feel water on his face.

Dripping.

Drip

His eyelids felt like lead as he struggled to open them. They fluttered feebly before opening.

He found himself staring up at the sky, a blanket of grey and thunderous angry clouds.

Why was he outside?

Why couldn't he breathe?

He tried to sit up but let out a strangled cry as pain lanced through his chest. Each shuddering breath sent agony through him.

His head felt foggy, he couldn't think straight

His mouth tasted like copper

How long had he been lying here?

His head was pounding, his whole chest was searing with pain, and he was soaked. He inclined his head slightly, trying to see his surroundings.

He was lying in the small ditch by the roadside, surrounded by icy, muddy rainwater.

Taking short, struggling breaths he began to move his arm slightly. He gingerly touched the side of his head and drew his hand away with a hiss. His fingertips were covered in blood.

Shit.

That explained the pounding headache.

He tried to gather his thoughts, think about this rationally but it was hard when his brain felt like it had been replaced with cotton wool.

Turning his head again he spotted his cell phone lying on the side of the road. He could probably reach it from here.

He swallowed hard as he shivered violently, pain shooting through his body. He was so cold.

He tried to move his right arm to reach across for the phone but the slightest movement sent fire lancing down his arm causing his eyes to water and a low moan to escape his lips.

His fingertips had brushed the phone.

He lay there struggling to draw a complete breath, the cold eating at his bones.

He was well and truly fucked.

He couldn't hold up the weight of his eyelids any longer, drowsiness washing over him as his head swam. He let his eyelids droop shut before welcoming the familiar darkness.

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Dean ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh as he paced the small confines of the dimly lit motel room. Where the hell was Sam? It'd had been over an hour since had been due back at the motel and he wasn't answering his phone.

For a start Sam was never late and secondly he always answered his phone, he was irritatingly anal about it. He'd always pick his phone up after no more than two rings. How could his dad be sitting there so calmly. Flicking through his journal and reading the information they'd gathered as if nothing had happened, as if Sam hadn't been AWOL for over an hour.

He began pacing again, the only sound filling the tense room was the whisper of his jeans and his footfalls as he resisted the urge to call his brother's phone again even though he'd tried a few seconds ago. He heard an irritated sigh from the corner.

"Dean, could you just stay still for a second?" His father snapped, shutting his journal and scrubbing a hand over his face. Dean scowled and collapsed down onto the bed, grimacing at the lumpy mattress.

"Look, maybe his phone is on silent and he can't hear it or he left it somewhere and he's on his way back now?" John offered wearily, knowing that is was unlikely. He just didn't want to face the truth. It was too much of coincidence, the demon appearing again and now Sam being gone…

"Dad you don't know what he's like, he wouldn't do that. He's completely anal about his cell phone and it's been an hour!" Dean snapped back before letting out a long sigh and setting his head down in his hands.

"We have to get out there and look for him, we've waited here for him to turn up and he hasn't. There's obviously something wrong." Dean said. He knew Sam, better than anyone and he knew his brother was rarely if not never late and if he was he'd call. Something had happened, he could feel it.

"What about the hunt Dean? The demon?" John said rising from his chair and Dean stood up to meet him.

"Screw the hunt Dad! This is your son we're talking about and for all we know the demon could have him! We have to go out and look for him. I'm not letting you put us in second place." Dean found himself yelling and clenched his fists, breathing heavily to calm himself down. He met John's eyes and found them stoic but ambiguous. He never could tell exactly what he was thinking.

"You're right…I'll go look at the library, the hospital. You take the Impala. Keep trying his phone." John said and Dean nodded, grabbing the keys and trying to keep the tremble from his hands.

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Dean eased the Impala around the corner and cruised along the street, looking around for any sign of his brother. It was drizzling and the sky was an ominous grey as he tapped on the steering wheel impatiently.

If it turned out Sam had just lost track of time he was going to kill him, of course without letting him know he was worried or anything.

He dialed Sam's number in again and waited, the continuous ringing taunting him as he stopped the car, shutting off the engine and letting out a long sigh of frustration. As the radio cut out with the engine he listened as the phone continued to ring when a tinny sound could be heard. Frowning Dean looked back down at the phone that was still ringing and strained his ears.

Ringing, it was ringing. That was Sam's ring tone he was sure of it.

His heart was hammering against his chest as he stepped out of the car urging every sound to stop so he could hear the phone. His mouth felt dry and blood was rushing in his ears. As he walked slowly forward the sound got clearer, sharper. The road was empty.

What the hell?

As the road curved slowly around he heard it. From the left.

His eyes rested on a shallow ditch filled with mud and rainwater, long blades of grass, drops of rain clinging to them and sparkling in the struggling sunlight. Then he saw it. A shoe, a foot, a leg, a body, a face. Sam.

**AN I know it's extremely short but more to come, just needed to set the scene.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks for the amazing reviews guys, seriously love for you lol! I'm so sorry for the huge delay for this chapter but seriously life has been hectic what with work and having to go up to the hospital to see my sister and with the absence of parents becoming housewife lol! Not fun. Anyway, enjoy and again thanks to OubletShadowStalker for the prompt and apologies again to her for the extreme lateness. **

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All the air seemed to leave Dean's lungs as he stared down at the crumpled form in front of him. He barely registered his knees buckling beneath him but he could feel the wetness seeping into the knees of his jeans as he stared at Sam.

"Sammy?" He choked out, his voice shaking as he tried desperately to hold on to the contents of his stomach. Sam didn't stir nor show any signs of life or recognition. Dean ran his eyes across his brother's still form.

His face was pale and scarlet blood ran down the left side of his face almost glaring at him like a beacon of failure. Sam's clothes were wet, soaked and stuck to his skin. He reached out with trembling fingers and placed them on Sam's neck, wincing at the coolness of his skin and feeling desperately for a pulse.

He waited, his own heart racing- taunting him as he waited to feel Sam's. Each second felt like an eternity until he felt the weak, slow but present thump beneath his fingers. He let out a long breath before fixing his attention back on his brother.

He ran his hands gently along his Sam's torso, feeling for any cuts and abrasions and as he ran his hands along the sides of Sam's ribs he felt two of them give under the gentle pressure and Sam let out a weak groan.

"Sam? Sammy…Sam can you hear me?" He called, tapping his brother lightly on the face in an effort to illicit some kind of response. Sam let out another small moan and his forehead creased slightly.

"Come on…open your eyes Samantha." He said loudly, not wanting to shake his brother as his ribs were clearly broken and he didn't want to hurt him anymore than he already was. Sam's eyes fluttered twice before flickering open, mossy green eyes dazed and glazed over with pain as they flitted panicked.

"Sam…" He said, relief washing over him as Sam stared up at him, swallowing hard and grimacing. His breaths were wet and shallow and lines of pain crept across his face as the rain fell steadily.

"D…Dean?" Sam rasped out, his voice barely audible above the pounding in Dean's chest. Dean struggled to maintain calm as he saw his brother's red stained teeth.

Fuck.

"Sam…Hey it's okay. What happened?" He asked softly as Sam struggled to draw a full breath, his broken body shivering. Dean watched, his stomach churning as Sam's mouth worked soundlessly.

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It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest as he desperately tried to breathe. Each attempt caused a white hot stabbing pain to radiate through his chest and stars exploded in front of his eyes.

He could see Dean's eyes above his, wide and pleading. He looked scared and that in turn scared Sam because he rarely saw his brother show his fear, even in the face of danger Dean would always have his mask and cocky attitude in place.

His muddled brain somehow processed Dean asking him what had happened, the words taking a painfully long time to reach him.

He just wanted to fall back into the numb darkness where he didn't feel like his chest was about to explode with pressure or taste the copper in his mouth.

What happened? Dean was asking him again but he couldn't seem to find the answer. It was dancing just out of his grasp, doing nothing but brushing it as he reached for it.

He swallowed and blood slid down his throat and he grimaced. His chest, not wanting to be forgotten, seared again and he groaned.

There was something important, something he needed to tell Dean but his head was pounding and it felt fuzzy. He just wanted to sleep.

He could hear Dean saying something, calling his name and he could hear the rain splashing into the murky puddles and a car roared past, engine rumbling.

Then it all came back to him in a rush of screeching tires, shattering glass and blinding lights.

"Sam…Sam! Please, you need to tell me what happened." He could hear Dean begging, the tremor in his voice and he could feel his warm hand against his forehead.

"Demon…" Sam managed to croak out, his voice barely audible.

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Dean felt his breath catch in his throat at his brother's single whispered word. The demon? Had the demon done this? Hurt his brother. Oh god, this was all his fault. He should never have left Sam to go alone, they shouldn't have split up.

"Sam? The demon did this?" He asked as his brother lifted his sluggish gaze to meet his. Sam opened his mouth to reply but he was caught by a coughing fit, harsh, wet coughs that cut Dean to the quick.

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Sam couldn't catch his breath, the coughs ripped through him. Surely no one could stay conscious through his much pain. His chest was on fire, his side was throbbing and his vision swam as he struggled to breathe. He felt warm wetness dribbling down his chin and Dean's hand, steady on his shoulder.

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Dean watched in abject horror as blood dribbled from his brother's mouth. This was bad, really fucking bad. He tried as best as he could to steady his brother without hurting him. This demon was seriously going down.

Finally the coughing fit stopped and Sam lay there, gasping and the wet rasping noises his breathing made, made Dean's stomach lurch dangerously. Sam needed help and he needed it fast. He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone, his hands trembling as he took it out.

Just as he was about to press the button Sam grasped aimlessly at his arm, gripping it weakly and fixing his pain-filled eyes upon his brother.

"Not…demon…I…I had a vision." Sam said between gasps and Dean immediately stilled.

It wasn't the demon…a vision? A vision couldn't have done this. Sure Sam got headaches but never unconscious and possibly bleeding to death internally. He balked at the thought and stared at his brother.

"The demon…it's coming for…Rosie."

Okay now Dean was officially confused.

"Sam, who's Rosie? You had a vision about the demon?" He asked trying to clarify what his brother was saying as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it around his brother's shivering form.

Sam nodded weakly and regretted it as pain exploded in his head. He needed to get Dean to understand before he passed out.

"Rosie…baby. At number…number 5. The demon…is coming for Rosie." He rapsed almost choking on the blood in his throat. The cold was biting at his bones and his eyelids were growing heavier, Dean's hand still rested on his shoulder and he wanted to sink into its warmth.

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At his brother's words Dean looked across the street and found the house standing there, number five. But right now none of that mattered, Sam was lying there and he needed help and Dean still didn't know what had happened to his brother, what had hurt him.

"It's okay Sam, we'll stop it okay? I need you to tell me what happened." He said, eyeing the head wound and frowning. Sam struggled to raise his gaze to meet his brother's.

"Car…" He rasped and suddenly Dean understood. He saw the shattered glass shimmering on the asphalt and he wondered how he hadn't put two and two together sooner. He felt a sudden surge of rage towards the driver who had hit his brother and left him for dead on the road side. Clenching his fists he looked down at his brother and realised they needed to get out of here _now_.

The car was across the road and there was no way he could get Sam that far. He was going to have to move the car but he didn't want to leave Sam. He sighed and pulled out his car keys.

"Sam, I just need to move the car. I'll be back and I'm gonna take you get some help okay? Move an inch and I'll kick your ass." He said with a trace of a smile as Sam smiled weakly, taking all his strength not to fall asleep.

Dean gave one fleeting look back at his brother before sprinting across the road and sliding into the car. He started the engine and drove quickly across the road, next to where Sam was. Leaving the keys in the car and the engine on he got out and hurried back to Sam.

"Okay little brother, I'm going to have to move you." Dean said trying to figure out how to maneuver his brother without causing him too much pain. He crouched down and placed his hand under Sam's back, wincing at the hiss of pain he heard as he slowly straightened him up. He looped an arm around Sam's waist and gently lifted him. He took Sam's other arm and started to move around his own neck to support him but suddenly Sam let out a cry of pain and leant heavily on Dean causing him to stumble.

Realising Sam must have hurt his arm as well, Dean regained his footing and gripped Sam tightly and looked away as tears leaked from Sam's eyes. Sam was leaning almost totally on Dean as they slowly made their way to the car, Sam's knees buckling several times.

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He tried to breathe evenly but the pain was too great and his head was growing foggy from the upright position. He could see the Impala but each step closer made his head feel foggier and the pain in his chest was reaching unbearable with each strangled inhale.

Just a little further. They had to help Rosie, another family couldn't be destroyed by the demon, another child couldn't grow up without a mother, not when he could stop it.

He could feel each breath making his chest tighter, each breath bringing in less air and blood was creeping up his throat making him want to gag. He just needed to get to the car.

He stumbled again, his legs feeling like led as he clung to Dean. Just a few more steps.

His legs buckled and he crumpled, his descent to the ground slowed by Dean. He could hear his name being called faintly but everything was overtaken by a buzzing in his ears as he desperately tried to pull air into his lungs.

There were a few seconds of agonizing suffocation before everything descended into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks for the amazing reviews and sorry for the terribly long wait, life has been well…busy to say the least. Thanks to TammiTam for reminding me I still had to update this! Enjoy.**

Time almost seemed to stand still as Dean felt Sam crumple in his arms and slide towards the floor. His instincts overriding the numbness he felt, he gripped his brother to stop him hitting the floor and stumbled with the weight as he tried to keep Sam upright.

This was bad. His heart pounded relentlessly as he shifted Sam's limp form upwards and quickly pressed his fingers against his neck, relieved when he found there was still a pulse.

But his brother needed a hospital and he needed one now. He knew broken ribs and coughing up blood meant a collapsed lung and Sam would suffocate or bleed out if he didn't get him help. An ambulance would take too long now.

"C'mon Sam." He said tapping his brother lightly, hoping for some response, groan, anything. But he was met but a deafening silence. He swallowed the lump that was gathering in his throat and heaved Sam up again, dragging him over to the open passenger seat door.

He could feel sweat beading on his forehead as he heaved his brother's 6'4" frame into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt, hands fumbling. He checked his brother over again quickly, grimacing at his pallid complexion and the streaks of red still marring the side of his face. No matter how many times he saw Sam hurt or bleeding he'd never get used to it, that feeling of failure and panic would never disappear.

He shut the passenger door and ran around the front of the car, sliding into the driver's seat, shutting the door, starting the engine and pulling out with a squeal of tires and the roar of the exhaust.

He sped along the road, hands on the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip, jaw set, teeth clenched and pulse racing. He glanced across at Sam then back to the road, driving then back at Sam each time feeling a wave of relief when he saw his brother was still breathing.

He was pushing the car to well above 90 and he knew if he got pulled over now he'd be screwed but he needed to help Sam. This was something he couldn't fix.

He turned left and saw the signpost for the hospital up ahead and swallowed hard. "Nearly there Sammy." He said, his voice sounding strained and constricted.

He saw the hospital up ahead and slammed the car to a halt at the entrance for once not caring if the car would get towed. He scrambled out of the car, killing the engine and looked back at his brother hesitant whether to try to move Sam himself or to go and get help. He didn't have time for this!

Making up his mind, he sprinted through the automatic doors through to the ER. Barging past the milling crowds of people he looked around frantically for a white coat, a pair of scrubs, anything to signify someone that worked here, someone who could help.

Finally he managed to spot a doctor standing at the front desk handing a chart to a receptionist and he ran over, knocking past several people as he went but not really noticing, he just knew he had to help Sam.

"Excuse me? Excuse me please, you have to help me brother." He started, the doctor turning around noting the blood stains on Dean's shirt and his rain soaked clothes.

"Please, he's outside and he can't breathe. He got hit by a car." Dean realised he was begging but he didn't care, he needed help for Sam and he needed it now. The doctor immediately turned to the nurse asking for a gurney.

"Show me." He said shortly as Dean began to run ahead, the doctor following him outside the doors to where the Impala was parked. He could see Sam still slumped in the passenger seat, head resting on his shoulder. Dean felt his stomach drop as he saw Sam, he hadn't moved since he had parked the car.

"Has he been conscious at all?" The doctor asked, opening the door and pressing two fingers to Sam's wrist. Dean swallowed struggling to get his words out, his mouth felt like sandpaper.

"Y..yeah he woke up for a bit but then he passed out and he hasn't been awake since." Dean said, watching the doctor's every move as he assessed his brother, a frown developing on his features. Nurses appeared with a gurney and it was a flurry of movement as Dean was pushed further and further away from his brother.

In a rush Sam was wheeled away, a mask covering his face and a crowd of nurses and doctors along with him leaving Dean alone in the parking lot, blood smeared across his shirt and the rain fell softly.

He needed Sammy to be okay. Stanford had been bad enough but at least he had known that Sam was away somewhere else, safe. He couldn't face losing Sam forever.

He needed to call Dad.

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Sam felt hands on him, cold and intruding. The touches were rough and probing. He was cold. He was lying on something hard and he could feel something over his face.

Each strangled breath he tried to draw caused a searing hot spike of agony to rush through his chest. He wanted Dean. Where was Dean?

He tried to call out for him but nothing but a small moan passed his lips. Someone was calling his name but it wasn't Dean.

His head was pounding and the hands were moving again, touching. He shuddered and swallowed with difficulty. The demon, he had to stop it. Why couldn't he move? Something was holding him down.

He felt his heart rate begin to fasten as he tried to move but was met only with resistance. He moaned again, chest throbbing, head spinning and stomach churning. He needed to stop it, he needed Dean. He had to get out of here.

His stomach lurched again dangerously and he felt saliva pooling in his mouth as his stomach flopped again. His body trembled as he struggled to hold back the inevitable. Before he could do anything vomit was rushing up his throat as he heaved violently, choking as it clogged his throat. Gasping, choking, coughing, agony before he was rolled to the side and the pain became too much.

Then everything went black again.

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Dean pressed the phone to his ear and held his breath, resting his head against the cool metal of the payphone he waited as the phone rang.

He couldn't rid himself of the image of Sam, crumpled and bleeding on the roadside. It made his stomach turn and his chest felt tight at the thought of Sam lying in that ditch, hurting and alone.

The phone rang twice more and Dean waited for the familiar voicemail he would probably hear. It still came as a shock everytime his father actually picked up the phone. He waited, heart pounding as the phone rang before a click and a gruff "Dean?"

"Dad." Dean breathed, gripping the phone tightly, knuckles white as he struggled to keep everything in.

"Did you find him?" John asked. Dean could hear traffic in the background and he knew his Dad was in the truck. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Yeah…I found him." Dean answered weakly, finding himself unable to continue speaking. There was a pause and he could tell his father was hesitating before answering.

"Is he okay? Where was he?" He asked quickly and Dean swallowed hard.

"He…he's not okay. He had a vi…we're at the hospital. Hit and Run…It's not good Dad." Dean said, catching his error and hoping his Dad hadn't noticed. The whole vision thing was another bombshell that needed to be dropped but he knew that was something Sam would want to do-if he made it through this that was.

"Shit…I…I'll get there as soon as I can." John answered and Dean was aware of how old and tired he sounded.

"Thanks." Dean answered, trying to keep the waver out of his voice as John disconnected the call and Dean stood there, phone still in his hand. The dial tone resounded in his ear and he let out a long sigh.

He needed Sam to be okay, he needed all of this to just disappear. He'd just gotten his brother back and having him there with him again made him realise just how much he had missed him whilst he was in Stanford. Sure it wasn't how it used to be but it was getting there and the important thing was that he had his brother back. He couldn't lose him again. Not when he had their father back and there was hope for them being a family again.

Dean was pulled out of his spiraling thoughts by someone calling his name. Initially he thought it was his father but the rational part of his brain reasoned that he couldn't have arrived here this quickly. He turned around and found the doctor from earlier standing in front of him.

He immediately felt like all the air had vanished from the room and the whole universe was hanging upon the man's next few words.

"I've been treating your brother and judging by initial tests, we've found that Sam will need emergency surgery. The impact of the car caused several ribs to break and unfortunately one has punctured his left lung. Although, only a small puncture it is causing pressure to build within the pleural cavity and if we don't correct this then…" The doctor trailed off and Dean felt his stomach churn and he needed something to grip onto.

"But…if you do this…he'll be okay right?" Dean asked, trying to keep the waver out of his voice.

"Providing everything goes smoothly he should make a full recovery, he's dislocated his shoulder but we've reset that and he has a concussion and some bruising but otherwise, considering the circumstances he's a lucky man." He said with a soft smile. Dean nodded jerkily although he couldn't see anything lucky in this situation.

He'd let Sam down, he'd let him get hurt.

"Can I see him before?" Dean asked. The doctor frowned, studying the man in front of him before sighing.

"You can see him for a few minutes, but only a few. We need to prep him for surgery." The doctor said and Dean nodded allowing the doctor to show him down the corridor and in front of the room's door.

"We'll be coming in soon to get him ready." He said and Dean bobbed his head in response before the doctor left, leaving Dean alone. Letting out a long breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Sam was lying stretched out on the bed, a mask covered his face and bandages marred the side of his head, the white standing out starkly against his dark hair. He was pale and bruises stood out vividly. He looked a mess.

"Sam." Dean whispered as he took a seat next to his brother and slipped a hand inside of his.

Sam didn't twitch or respond and Dean sighed.

"I'm sorry Sam. This is my fault I should've…I'm sorry." Dean whispered, feeling heat building in his eyes but he blinked it away. He stared down at the bedsheets and swallowed hard.

"Just…promise me you'll be okay. I'll see you later, I promise I'll be there when you wake up. We'll get this demon Sam, you'll be okay, we'll be okay." He said, giving his brother's huge, limp hand a squeeze. He could see the doctor hovering in the doorway and he nodded.

He stood up and sighed, brushing the hair away from Sam's forehead.

"Don't try anything stupid Sam, or I _will_ kick your ass." He said, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

He turned around and walked out of the room, allowing the doctors to do what they had to and praying that everything would be alright.

**A/N Sorry if that was awful, I'm running on very little sleep lol better stuff to come I promise!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Firstly I'd like to apologise to OubletShadowStalker for how long this fic is taking to finish, stupid RL grr and secondly I'd like to thank you all for the wonderful reviews and for putting up with my writer's block, procrastination and overall disorganisation. Also sorry for the length, one or two more chapters left in this fic! So, enjoy the chapter! **

Dean wriggled uncomfortably on the plastic chair that sat in the hospital corridor and rested his head back against the white-washed walls, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about his brother and the mess he was in and failing miserably. He couldn't get the image of his broken and bleeding younger brother, lying there looking pleadingly up at him.

He should never have let him wander off alone, not when they knew the demon could be around. Sam had a vision and Dean hadn't been there to help him, his brother had been alone, in pain and Dean not being there had meant Sam had gotten hurt.

He knew how the visions affected Sam, how painful they were for him, the disorientation. It was no wonder Sam had wandered out into the road and a car had hit him. How could a person hit someone and then drive off, leaving them for dead. Dean knew if he ever came across this person, boy would they be sorry. Hundreds of bullies, assholes and a whole lot of Supernaturals knew that you didn't hurt Sam Winchester and get away with it.

Dean sighed again and closed his eyes. He just wanted to restart the whole day over. He could hear footsteps coming up the corridor as he rubbed a hand roughly over his face feeling far older than his 26 years. He heard the footsteps quicken and he forced his eyes open and started as he saw his father coming to a halt in front of him.

"Dad," he breathed, unable to keep the relief from his voice. He could see the pallor of his father's face and no matter how hard he tried to hide it he could also see the worry.

"Dean, how is he? Have you heard anything?" John asked, somewhat out of breath as if he had ran here. Dean swallowed painfully wishing he had heard something.

"No, he's still in surgery. He broke some ribs and punctured a lung, they need to fix it and stop the bleeding. He has a concussion and he dislocated his shoulder. They said he has a good chance though." Dean said, hoping that the last part would follow through.

John nodded mutely suddenly looking older than Dean had ever seen him, every line seemed to stand out on his face and he looked tired. He sank into the chair that Dean had previously been occupying and sighed.

"What the hell happened Dean?" He asked wearily and Dean looked away, not wanting to see his Dad look like this, he was always the strong one, business-like with everything, always in the hunt.

"I…well…I was calling his cell in the car and I could hear it outside. I got out and he…he was there on the road. He…he was hurt pretty bad and when he came round he said it was a car and…" Dean trailed off, remembering his brother's desperation to get across what his vision had been about, the pleading in his brother's eyes that Dean would do something about it. He knew Sam wouldn't want another family to be torn apart like theirs had been. He needed to tell Dad the truth.

"And what Dean?" John asked, sensing Dean's hesitation.

"Well he…he had a vision Dad." Dean said, watching his father and waiting for the bomb to go off. John stared up at him, face impassive and unreadable. There was a long silence in which Dean swore he could hear the cogs turning in his father's head and his own heartbeat rapidly thumping in his chest.

The silence seemed to stretch on for a life age before John looked up again.

"What?" He said and Dean swallowed, his mouth feeling dry as he saw the intensity in his eyes.

"Sam he uh…he had a vision. He said the Demon is coming for a baby named Rosie who lives at number five on Westmorland Avenue." Dean replied hoarsely as John stared at him, his dark eyes boring into Dean's.

"A vision?" He echoed, voice seeming distant. Dean felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Yeah…um they started a couple of months back. He…well what he sees it, it comes true Dad. They start off like headaches." He said watching as John gripped the arms of the plastic chair, knuckles white.

"So, you didn't think the fact that my son is having visions is important enough to tell me?" He said, his voice dangerously calm.

"You could have picked up the phone and called me Dean!" He said, eyes dark.

That was it, something snapped in Dean and he bunched his hands into fists.

"Call you? Call you? Dad I tried calling you hundreds of times! You were the one who upped and left without a word, not even a message telling me where you were, if you were okay. Me and Sam left you dozens of messages. You didn't even call when I was dying Dad! So, sorry if I didn't think to call!." He yelled, radiating anger, months of pent up worry, frustration and rage at his father's actions pouring out.

John seemed to deflate, his grip on the chair loosening and he let out a long, tired sigh.

"I'm sorry Dean, you're right it's just…" He trailed off.

"I know." Dean replied softly.

Dean sank down in the chair next to his father and they both sat in silence, both deep in thought and waiting for any news on the youngest Winchester, praying he would be okay.

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An hour later Dean was sat in the same chair, John paced the corridor restlessly, lost in his thoughts. He walked up and down, hands stuffed into his pockets and his eyes on the floor, his shoulders were hunched like there was a great weight resting on them.

Dean wanted to say something, ask him to sit down but the words just wouldn't come. Time felt like it was standing still, the clock was moving so slowly Dean was sure it was going backwards. He just needed to know that Sam was alright, he needed to see him.

He looked up and noticed that John had stopped pacing and had an unreadable expression on his face. He frowned, looked at his watch let out a sigh before lifting his gaze to meet Dean's.

"Dean I…you said that Sam said the demon is coming…tonight?" John asked quietly, eyeing the passing nurses. Dean frowned not liking the expression on his father's face and where this conversation could be leading them.

"Yeah, tonight." Dean said shortly, watching as John looked away, still frowning, deep in thought.

"Dean I…I can't let this thing get away. I can't let it do to another family, what it did to us. I can't." He said, although his voice maintained its usual calm and controlled tone, Dean could see the desperation behind his eyes.

"So, you're going to leave Sam? To go after the demon, alone, uncovered." Dean said trying to keep the edge of anger out of his voice. The hunter in Dean knew where his Dad was coming from but the brother in him wished that for once he'd put his family first.

"Well, you could cover my back." John said simply as Dean gaped at him.

"Seriously? Dad I'm not leaving Sam, he's in surgery! What if something happens and I'm not here?" Dean responded, surprised that his father didn't know him better, surely he knew that Sam came first? He'd never forgive himself if he went after the demon and something happened to Sam.

"Fine. But I have to leave now if I want to be prepared so…be careful and tell Sam…tell Sam I'm sorry and I'll get here when I can."John said before nodding a goodbye and walking down the corridor.

"Be careful Dad!" Dean called out, watching his father walk away and feeling torn between John and Sam, being a brother and being a good son.

It was a potential lose lose situation. If something happened to Dad he'd feel guilty for not being there but if something happened to Sam he'd never forgive himself for that either.

He sighed in exasperation and sat back down, looking again at the clock. Now he had two people to worry about.

-----------------------

It felt like whole millenniums had dragged by before finally Sam's doctor emerged and walked over to Dean who scrambled out of his seat, nearly tripping in his haste to stand.

"Is he okay? Did everything go okay?" Dean asked quickly, trying to study the doctor's face for any signs of negative news. The doctor held up a hand to calm Dean.

"Everything went fine, Sam's in recovery at the moment. We repaired the lung damage and we just have him on a chest tube to drain the excess fluid. We'll be moving him to a room soon and then you can see him. He'll be groggy for a while but that's normal. A nurse will come and collect you when we move him." He finished with a smile and Dean felt like the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Thanks Doc, thank you so much." He said gratefully as the doctor smiled and left Dean alone, finally feeling a little less terrible.

Finally when the nurse had come to collect him, he didn't even try to flirt with her, the only thing on his mind was Sam. He was nervous, nervous about seeing him and having to face him after he let him down and having to tell him that it was his fault their Dad had gone to face the demon alone.

He opened the door and walked inside, feeling slightly sick. He swallowed hard as he saw Sam lying still in the bed, IVs and wired attached to him, the steady beeping and humming of monitors drumming into his head. An oxygen mask was over his face and he could see the chest tube poking out from under the blankets.

"Geez Sammy…you look like shit." Dean said, taking a seat next to Sam's bed. He studied Sam's pale, lax face and felt a pang of guilt. He hated seeing Sam hurt. It felt like failure.

"You never do anything half-assed do you? If this is some elaborate plan to initiate a chick-flick moment then I think you went a little bit far." He said lightly but his voice cracked slightly towards the end. He looked down and sighed shakily.

"You better wake up soon Sammy. It's gonna get boring here, the nurses aren't even hot. How am I supposed to amuse myself?"

Dean reached under the blanket and slid his hand gently into Sam's, avoiding the IVs.

"Dad's taking care of the demon and Rosie. It'll be okay." He said, trying to reassure himself more than Sam who most likely couldn't hear a word he was saying.

"You better hurry up and get better Sam. We were just starting to be a family again." He said softly, eyeing the steady rise and fall of Sam's chest. He just hoped they'd all be okay.


End file.
